


Hope in the Darkness

by amyfortuna



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Belly Massage, Comfort Sex, M/M, Reunion Sex, Riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 01:55:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6636235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Darkness falls, Maglor returns to Tirion and his husband Gildor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hope in the Darkness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Moria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moria/gifts).



The streets were full of torches, running feet, shouting voices. Gildor, on the rooftop of his house, stared down at the commotion, mouth tight with worry, fingers fidgeting lightly on the stone wall. The ways of telling time were broken now, and he could only estimate that it had been several hours since the return of the Fëanorians to Tirion, a much-heralded arrival accompanied by cheers and a slight dispelling of the universal gloom due to their stock of lamps being distributed amongst the panicked public. 

Thus it was that Fëanor courted his public, reminding them that he had foreseen darkness and the need for light. Reminding them also of the greater lights which had been stolen away. 

The door below slammed open, and Gildor wheeled around, looking at the dark stairs which led downward into his house - once the house he shared with his husband Maglor, but now lived in alone, since the exile. Running footsteps pattered up the stairs eagerly, and at last Maglor emerged onto the rooftop, calling Gildor's name. 

Gildor straightened his shoulders, drawing up to his full height. The reunion he had pondered over many times in the intervening years had now arrived. Part of him wanted to be angry, as angry as he had been when Maglor had left him. That fateful night they had argued loudly, and Maglor had left the house with a bag thrown over his shoulders and a slammed door. 

But seeing Maglor now, disheveled from travel and grief, hair erratically sticking out all over the place, handsome face all dust and tears, he could not summon up any anger. His husband had lost his grandfather in the worst of ways, they had all lost their King, and the Light of the Trees, and next to that, what was a years-old petty argument worth? Gildor found himself taking Maglor into his arms between one breath and the next, holding tight to him as if he never wanted to let go. 

Maglor buried his face in Gildor's broad chest, sobbing softly. Slow tears seeped through Gildor's robe, and a wave of love washed through Gildor. He lifted Maglor, carrying him down the stairs into their bedroom and lay him down on the bed, curling up next to him. Maglor was crying as if he could not hold it back any longer, reaching up now and then to press his lips to Gildor's, salt-stained. He tried to speak once or twice but was unable to get the words out, and Gildor held him close, stroking a hand over his hair, his face, down his chest. He slipped that same hand under Maglor's tunic, and laid it softly on Maglor's belly, and with that gesture, Maglor began to calm down. 

Gildor rubbed Maglor's belly in slow circles, encouraging him wordlessly to take deeper, slower breaths from his diaphragm. They were silent together, hardly in need of words just then. Gildor concentrated on the feel of his husband under his hand, the soft skin of his belly warm and intimate as it had ever been, the patient cadence of his breathing, musician trained that he was, and remembered doing this for Maglor a thousand times before, from their wedding night when they had discovered it to be very soothing to their mutual nerves, to before Maglor's finest performances. On those nights they'd hidden away in a corner of a dressing room, even a closet when there was no other space, and Maglor had settled between Gildor's legs. With Gildor's hands on his belly rubbing soothing circles, and Gildor's voice against his ear telling him how much loved he was, and how bright he would shine, Maglor would always feel his nerves begin to slip away. 

At last Maglor spoke, voice soft and almost trembling. "I am so sorry," he said. "I do not - and cannot - regret going to Formenos, but I regret greatly that I caused you pain. I would take that back, if I could, but since I cannot, I will promise to stay with you as much as I can."

Gildor kissed him. "I regret causing you pain as well," he said after a moment. He removed his hand from under Maglor's tunic, and gently eased him out of it, throwing it to the ground. "You need to change clothes, dearest. I've kept everything you left behind, and I can make you some food if you like?"

"Yes," Maglor said, "but first, I need you." He let a hand drift down lazily to Gildor's crotch, making his meaning clear. Gildor swallowed, feeling his arousal leap to life at Maglor's touch. For so long it had only been himself, lost in dreams and fantasies of what was, what might have been. "I want you inside me." 

Gildor caught his breath, and made haste to pull off Maglor's boots and stockings, then his trousers and undergarments. At last he lay naked on the bedcovers, smiling up at Gildor, who stripped his own clothing off with indecent haste and made his way back to the bed. For a long moment, he simply held Maglor in his arms, relearning the feel of their skin together and the smell and taste of him. Though mingled with dust from travel and the acrid sweat of stress and fear, it was still Maglor, and Gildor could not help but love kissing every bit of skin that he could reach. 

After a while, Gildor reached for the vial of oil, fumbling in the drawers of the bedside table for it. Maglor spread his legs, lazily stroking himself, as Gildor prepared them both, laying kisses on his hips and, once, to the tip of his cock, just enough to tease. Maglor wriggled down on Gildor's long fingers, clearly enjoying the sensations of being filled again. 

Gildor replaced his fingers with himself, and they closed their eyes in bliss as they were joined. Gildor wrapped his arms around Maglor, holding him close, and they rolled over together, so that Maglor was on top of him, riding him in the way they both most loved. Maglor made small delighted noises of appreciation as Gildor began to stroke him, and they rose and fell together, in no hurry, revelling in being united. 

Gildor could have stayed like that in endless bliss, buried deep inside his husband, who was half-singing, half-chanting a sweet love song he had written years before under his breath, breaking off now and then for gasps and moans as he got closer and closer to coming. Their eyes met and held each other, and it was that which tipped Gildor over the edge - the simple sweet happiness of love regained. Bliss washed over him, and he could see it take Maglor too before he had to close his eyes. 

Maglor, breathless, fell forward onto Gildor's chest, and Gildor put his arms around him, reluctant to let him go even to move on to the bed beside him rather than on top of him. 

"My hope in the darkness," Maglor breathed after a moment, caressing Gildor's cheek with one hand and moving to press a kiss to his lips. "My light when all is gone."


End file.
